Briefly the scent of warm berries curled around me and I took a deeper breath, trying to anchor it in my memory, but then it was gone.
‘I know you noticed it yourself,’ his voice was still quiet, but he was speaking faster, sounding anxious, worried. ‘Every time we got close my magic responded to yours. It was confusing, until I realised you weren’t consciously using your Glamour to entice—’
A loud bang on my front door interrupted him.
‘Hell’s thorns, I forgot—’ He jumped up. ‘I phoned the Rosy Lee while you were getting dressed.’
My mind was numb, empty. I stayed where I was, my head resting on my knees, not even trying to work out what to do, not caring. Out in my lounge, voices rose and fell, but the words made no sense. The breeze brought the scents of lavender and lemon balm through the window behind me. They eddied around my shoulders with a consoling touch and a tendril of soft multi-coloured light unfurled inside me. The brownie’s magic bloomed into gentle, comforting warmth that soothed and slowly eased away the darkness in my mind.
I sighed and lifted my head, rubbing away the dampness in my eyes, my conscience pricking at me. Never mind anything else; there was still something I needed to finish. I looked at my alarm clock. And I needed to do it soon.
The bedroom door opened and I looked up as Finn stood there, a serious expression on his face.
Next to him stood Detective Inspector Helen Crane. Hugh loomed behind them.
The police had come to call.
Chapter Thirty-Three
D
etective Inspector Crane stood in front of my window. The afternoon sun cut through behind her, slicing to either side of her black-suited-figure, making it impossible to decipher her expression. Somehow I didn’t think she’d stood there by chance.
‘Ms Taylor,’ she began, her voice almost without inflection, ‘can you tell me your whereabouts at eleven-thirty p.m. last night?’
The question was expected - no way had I thought this a social visit - but if she was here about the headless bodies, the time was all wrong. I took a moment to think exactly where I’d been, and how much trouble the truth might cause me, but I was my father’s daughter, and I was sidhe. Neither gave me the option of straight-out lying.
Finn sprang up to sit on my kitchen counter, the movement catching my eye. A half-smile wreathed his mouth, as though he were completely unconcerned, but under his shirt the muscles across his shoulders and neck were tight with tension. It didn’t take much to realise the strained atmosphere had more to do with the relationship between Finn and Detective Inspector Helen Crane - whatever that was - and the fact she’d found Finn here with me than any official police business.
I frowned at the inspector. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Just answer the question, Genny,’ Hugh rumbled. I looked over at him. He had folded himself down to sit Indian-style on my rug - I appreciated his attempt to look less imposing - but when you’re a seven-foot-tall troll, not even sitting can manage that. His notepad was carefully balanced on his knee and he gripped one of his over-large pens between his fingers.
If I was going to have this many visitors maybe I ought to think about getting some furniture - nah, it probably wasn’t worth it. I didn’t want to send out the wrong impression. I was getting enough unwanted guests as it was.
A smothered cough drew my attention to the other uninvited occupant of my lounge: the ever-charming Constable Curly-hair stood to attention by my front door, her eyes flicking between me and Hugh, a happy little smirk wreathing her plump face. She looked to be the only person here enjoying herself.
‘Ms Taylor?’ The inspector clasped her hands and her rings chinked as if advertising her impatience.
Shrugging, I stuck my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. ‘At half-past-eleven I was in a black hackney cab. I’ve no idea what his licence number was, but his CCTV was running, I remember seeing the red light blinking.’ I rocked back on my heels. ‘’Course, if I’d known you were interested, I’d have made a note of it.’
Hugh rumbled a warning at my tone, and wrote something down.
‘Where were you going?’
I sighed. She had to know the answer to that one. ‘I had an appointment with my client, Alan Hinkley. He’d arranged for me to see Melissa Bank’s body, with you.’
Her lips thinned. ‘Only you never arrived at the police station. Why was that, Ms Taylor?’
Let me think. Oh yeah, I ran into a bit of trouble.
A trickle of sweat ran down my back, but I kept my voice level. ‘Hinkley didn’t turn up for our meeting.’
‘Did you not think that strange? Or maybe consider telephoning him to find out why?’
‘I would have, but I’d left my phone somewhere, and I didn’t know his number.’
And don’t worry
, I added silently,
he’s on my to-do list - he and whoever it was sent the revenants in his place.
‘I’d been planning to contact him today.’
‘That won’t be possible,’ she said. ‘Alan Hinkley was attacked last night.’
Shock jolted through me and I crossed my arms over the sudden cold feeling in my stomach. ‘Is he all right? What happened? ’
‘Mr Hinkley is in a coma.’ She twisted the large diamond ring on her finger. ‘His solicitor and a goblin guard were attacked at the same time. The solicitor is in intensive care and the goblin is dead.’
So that’s where the revenants had got the bat. Alan must have been first on their list. Someone was obviously serious about stopping me from seeing Melissa’s body, but if it
was
Declan - who still looked like the only candidate - Alan being attacked made even less sense.
‘Genny,’ Hugh broke into my thoughts, ‘we need to know the details of the taxi journey to confirm your statement.’
I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘You mean so you can rule me out as a suspect.’
‘That’s not what I said, Genny.’ Hugh’s brow ridges lowered over his eyes. ‘But it would be better if the facts were verified.’
‘Fine,’ I huffed. ‘I picked up the taxi from the rank at Leicester Square.’ I watched Hugh as I spoke. He didn’t even flinch, so they already knew I’d been to the Blue Heart. ‘The taxi dropped me off under the Hungerford Bridge, on the Victoria Embankment side, at five minutes to midnight. The journey took around thirty minutes, because of the traffic.’
‘Then what did you do?’ The inspector’s tone was brisk.
‘I waited for Alan Hinkley.’
‘And then what?
I shrugged. ‘He didn’t turn up, so I came home.’
‘What time was that?’
‘I’m not sure. I didn’t check my watch.’
‘You must have some idea of the time, Ms Taylor.’
I frowned. Maybe she was here about the revenants after all. Except, what with the fighting and the whole passing out thing, and then Malik, I really hadn’t a clue what time I’d got home.
‘Perhaps if I can butt in—?’ Finn’s voice sounded lower than normal.
I shot a glance at him and my pulse quickened. He leant forward, his arms braced on the counter on either side of him, the angles of his face seemed sharper, the moss-green of his eyes more arrogant, his horns taller. He was still Finn. Still gorgeous. Only now he had a harsh wild beauty that made him seem remote, less human than before. My breath caught in my throat as desire echoed faintly through me.
A small clinking noise dragged my attention away from him to the inspector. She was staring at him, her hand clutching the sapphire pendant at her neck.
Constable Curly-hair wasn’t so circumspect. She looked as interested as a hungry vampire scenting blood.
Then it clicked. I
looked.
There was nothing to see, but whatever Finn was doing, it was deliberate, and I realised I’d felt it before - it was his own magic. Even if the inspector didn’t catch on, it was so not a good idea with Hugh around. And judging by the red dust that was settling on Hugh’s white shirt, he knew exactly what Finn was up to, although, oddly, he just continued to stare at his notepad.
‘I came round to see Gen here last night.’ Finn’s voice tugged at something deep inside me. ‘I was late and she’d already gone. I tried to catch up with her at Leicester Square, but missed her again, but I saw her get into the taxi. I knew she was meeting Hinkley at midnight, so I headed for the Embankment. After Hinkley didn’t turn up, I made sure she got home’ - a smile flitted across his face - ‘and I left not long after.’
Neat, very neat. It tied everything up, without actually lying. And it all tallied with what he’d told me earlier. Only going by the expression on Detective Inspector Crane’s face, she wasn’t buying it.
Still gripping her pendant, she walked towards him, then stopped abruptly and turned sharply to the constable. ‘That will be all, Constable Sims,’ she said. ‘Please wait outside.’
‘But ma’am—’ Constable Curly-hair’s face fell. ‘Don’t you need me here in case you have to search the suspect?’
‘What suspect?’
‘Her.’ As she pointed at me I caught a flash of pink at her wrist. I frowned and
looked
. The pink flashed brighter. I was right; she was wearing the rose quartz bracelet again. Had she realised not all the spells were working? Not that it mattered; she’d broken the bargain. Briefly I wondered what price the magic would extract. Then I put it out my mind.
‘Ms Taylor is
not
a suspect.’ Inspector Crane’s teeth snapped together. ‘She is not a suspect in anything. Do you understand me?’
I
looked
, and saw the inspector’s spells glowing brighter than a supernova.
‘Yes ma’am,’ the constable said, not bothering to hide her disappointment, and she left, leaving the door ajar.
‘Wait outside the
building
, Constable,’ Inspector Crane called after her.
No chance of her eavesdropping then. That didn’t sound good.
‘And you as well, please, Sergeant Munro.’
Hugh laid his pad and pen down in front of him. ‘No, I don’t think so, ma’am,’ he said calmly.
‘That was an order, sergeant.’
‘If this is no longer police business, then you cannot tell me to leave.’ Hugh’s words sounded like loose chippings clattering over slate. ‘As a friend to both Genny and Finn, I feel that I should stay, ma’am.’
I shot Hugh a look. Nice though the support was, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to antagonise his new boss.
She glared at Hugh, then turned suddenly, ignoring him, and strode up to Finn.
Smacking her hand on his chest she cried, ‘How
dare
you do this? How
dare
you give her an alibi? After everything I’ve done!’ The magic misted round her with anger. ‘You disgust me - lying to protect her, trying to
persuade
me - and for what? A psychotic sucker whore.
A sidhe!
You know what they’re like, all of them - they’re just out for themselves!’
Okaaay, so I really wasn’t her favourite person - but
psychotic
?
‘I haven’t lied to you, Helen,’ Finn said. The angry mist seemed to cling to him. ‘Gen didn’t do it.’
‘Of course you’d know that, wouldn’t you?’ she scoffed. ‘But you’re thinking with your dick instead of your brain - for the Goddess’ sake, you were
with
me when the call came in, Finn - you told me yourself it sounded like sidhe vengeance.’
‘
Sounded
, Helen, it
sounded
like sidhe vengeance,
that’s
what I said—’
I blinked. And he’d made me think he’d heard about it on the news.
‘She’s the only sidhe in London,’ she snapped.
‘You don’t know that, Helen.’ Finn tried to take her hand, but she batted him away. ‘Hugh?’ he asked, looking at the troll.
I turned to Hugh, expectant.
Were
there other sidhe around?
‘Finn has a point,’ Hugh rumbled quietly, ‘although it is unlikely.’
Inwardly, I slumped. So it was just a misdirection.
‘She was
there
.’ Inspector Crane swung back to Finn. ‘You’ve just admitted you saw her there yourself.’
‘You said the bodies were found at Hammersmith Pier and that’s miles away from Hungerford Bridge.’
Hugh started reading from his notebook, ‘A man walking his dog early this morning called in to say he’d found a pool of blood. His dog tried to roll in it. Initial blood typing matches with the bodies found.’
Whose side are you on here, Hugh?
I asked silently.
‘Ask her, Helen.’ Finn pointed at me. ‘Ask thrice and she has to tell the truth.’
What the—? Shit, Finn, this is so not a good idea.
I clamped my mouth shut to stop myself shouting at him.
‘Gen.’ He turned to me, emerald flecks sparking in his eyes. ‘Did you at anytime last night have anything to do with the deaths and mutilation of two humans?’
I breathed an inward sigh of relief.
‘No.’
He asked me again, the exact same words.
‘No,’ I said my answer firmer.
Hugh looked from Finn to me, a considering look on his face. My pulse sped up. Had he worked it out?
‘Gen, did you at—’
‘Stop it, Finn, now,’ Inspector Crane shouted. ‘I’ll ask her myself.’
‘It has to be the same question, Helen, or the geas won’t hold.’
‘I know that.’ She glared at him. ‘Remember?’
She stalked over to me, rage etched in her face. ‘Did you at anytime last night have anything to do with the deaths and mutilations of two humans?’
‘No,’ I yelled.
Fuck, that hurt.
It felt like something had physically ripped the word from my heart. I shuddered and rubbed under my breast. I’d only had that happen twice before, but it didn’t get any better.
For a moment I thought she was going to hit me, or cry, or maybe both. Then she turned away and snatched up a newspaper and a brown envelope from the window sill. She strode back to Finn and he caught the envelope as she slapped it at him. ‘See this? This is what your precious sidhe’s been up to.’
He opened the envelope and flipped through its contents.
She turned to face me, straightened her shoulders. ‘As a senior representative of the Witches’ Council, Ms Taylor, I am to inform you that in light of your involvement with the local vampire community, the Council has taken the decision to sever any association with you.’